Past the signs of inhabitants and welcoming lands, a border of dark trees stand. Tall black and green giants of the ages cower to cover any openings from above to shine through. The roots of each tree are entangled to each other casting a web-like surface above and beneath the ground. A smell of pine travels with the ghostly white fog among the expansions of the forest. Bright green moss clothes the branches of every tree and blankets the floor.
Creatures with unimaginably frightening features lurk in the shadows and hollow holes of the trees. Cold-blooded amphibians inhabit the stagnant pools of black water. There are scattered groups of wolves that stalk any person who wanders into the forest.
As one venture deeper into the darkness there they will find broken statues of kings from eras beyond any beings recollections. Past the statues is a deep trench where there stands a chair raised on several circular stone. It sits covered in the overgrowth of the black tree roots and creeping moss at its feet. Nothing remains to indicate the purpose of the chair but as one stands there in wonder, a wind blows through that caresses the trees and it will appear as if a voice is singing to you.
